


Honest Men

by queenbaskerville



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Jewish Leon (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), not to everybody tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenbaskerville/pseuds/queenbaskerville
Summary: Leon finds out Merlin has magic. He's not very happy about it.





	Honest Men

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote four years ago and never finished. I was procrastinating homework and tacked an ending onto it just for fun, because why not. IDK when in canon this would fit but whatever.
> 
> It was inspired by browsing behindthename.com and seeing that the name "Leon" was a common name among Jewish people in the Middle Ages.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism always welcome.

 

When Leon thinks of Merlin, he doesn't think of someone of great mental capacity or physical strength. Merlin is terribly clumsy, a bit dim, and completely foolish. The thing that shines the most about his character, though, is his permanent optimism—the unfailing smile, the fight-against-all-odds-and-win look in his eye, the capability to see when Arthur or the knights are flagging and rouse them with a few good words. He's good as a supporting role, Leon thinks. Knights support a kingdom by guarding, advising, and fighting. Merlin supports the kingdom by keeping its prince afloat when the prince can't carry the kingdom by himself anymore. 

It's with this mindset that Leon decides to approach Merlin about his concern for Prince Arthur's appetite. The prince spends more time in the training field than ever but doesn't eat much, and it's starting to show in the hollows of his cheeks and the exhaustion of his gait. It's the rising threat Morgana poses, Leon thinks, but maybe it's something else. Merlin probably has a better understanding since he spends so much time with Arthur. He has, no doubt, noticed already, but it will ease Leon's mind to speak with him about it. 

Leon finds Merlin polishing one of Arthur's numerous breastplates. 

"Hello," Merlin greets him cheerily, fidgeting a little where he's sitting. The boy can never keep still. 

"Good afternoon, Merlin," Leon replies. "The armor is looking nice."

"Thanks," Merlin says, "I definitely haven't been speed-polishing or anything to get to lunch earlier. Nope." 

Leon looks to his left. There is quite a stack of armor that already looks spotless, and he'd appreciate it more but the sudden crash behind him catches him off guard. He spins around, but it's just a gauntlet that must've rolled off a cabinet onto a cloth, not quite finished with its cleaning. 

"You shouldn't leave that stuff just lying around, Merlin," Leon chides, bending over to pick it up. There's just the slightest bit of wind as he leans down, but when he looks up there's nothing overhead. Must have been a fly. "You've dented it."

"Just a bit," Merlin agrees, reaching his hand out toward Leon without getting up. "I'll fix it, though. No problem, no problem at all."

"Mm." Leon steps forward to give Merlin the gauntlet. "I'm here to talk to you about Prince Arthur."

"The prat is neglecting his pillow and his plate; I'm well aware." Merlin's scrubbing with the dirty cloth gets a little more aggressive. "And after all that time I spend lugging food and linens up the stairs—" Merlin ducks his head to focus on the task in his hands and the complaints become unintelligible muttering. 

"The knights are a bit concerned."

"Don't worry, Leon. I'll take care of him." Merlin lifts his face to beam up at him. "I know just the thing to cheer him up."

"Ah," Leon says. "Good." There's a pause. "What is it, exactly?"

"Trade secret," Merlin says, tapping his nose with one finger. 

"You're gonna piss him off until he throws you in the stocks," Leon guesses, but Merlin just laughs. 

"I haven't been in the stocks in years, and my back thanks me for it every morning. No, I was thinking something else."

"If you've got it covered, I'm not worried," Leon says. This is false. He is, in fact, slightly worried, but he also knows that even is Merlin is being a bonehead, it'll likely make Arthur laugh regardless. 

Leon heads out, striding through the corridors until his cloak slips from its clasp. He steps into an alcove to refasten it and sees Merlin meander by, probably to get lunch. He watches, amused, as a tapestry fall right on Merlin's head. It's actually hilarious to watch him stumble, covered head to toe in thick woven fabric, unable to see a thing, but it stops being funny the moment the tapestry lifts into the air and gently hangs itself back on the wall. Leon can't move, can't breathe— _no, no, no, no_ —and Merlin walks right past the alcove on his way out of the hall. Just for a split second, Merlin's eyes are gold.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, Leon's opportunity to confront Merlin comes in the form of laundry. He sees Merlin walking down a mostly-empty corridor with a great pile of shirts and trousers in a basket, presumably because he's behind on laundry again. Leon hadn't been going that way, but he quickly heads down the corridor after him.

Merlin is whistling some silly tune when Leon catches up with him, which is such a Merlin thing to do—not characteristic of evil sorcery at all—that it nearly throws Leon for a loop. He shakes himself into action, grabbing Merlin by the shoulder and shoving him a bit roughly into the wall.

"My lord!" Merlin blurts, startled, but by then he has actually hit the stone, so he's in a position to see who is manhandling him. His eyebrows furrow. "Leon?"

Leon is, again, sidetracked. "You knew a lord had grabbed you before you knew it was me—is someone harassing you, Merlin?" 

Merlin stares for a second before one eyebrow shoots up in an uncanny imitation of Gaius.

Leon frowns. "There _is_ someone harassing you, isn't there? You know you can talk to Prince Arthur about it? He won't see a servant abused, and myself and the other knights will defend you if the nobleman accuses you of lying about your mistreatment."

Merlin continues to give him the Gaius-eyebrow until Leon shifts uncomfortably and asked, "What?"

"Sir Leon," says Merlin, with the tone of someone patiently dealing with an obstinate six year old, "you just grabbed me from behind and slammed me into a wall." He leaves unsaid the fact that this might count as a lord mistreating a servant, but he does glance pointedly at Leon's gloved hand, which still holds his shoulder.

"Oh," is all Leon can say, feeling rather foolish. He lets go of Merlin as if the boy is on fire and steps back a pace. When he remembers why he'd come after Merlin in the first place, his expression hardens. "We need to talk."

The Gaius-eyebrow is replaced by confusion. "Okay."

"Privately."

Merlin frowns. "Arthur's chambers?"

Leon shakes his head. That could be absolutely disastrous. 

"Uh, Gaius's, then, would be best. Is something wrong?"

Merlin sounds genuinely concerned, and Leon feels a prick of guilt in his stomach. He promptly quashes it. Best to get straight to the point. There's no room for guilt or pity in the face of evil, Leon reminds himself. He makes his voice cold. "I know you practice magic. Be in Gaius's chambers in an hour or I go to the king."

He leaves it at that and stalks away, red cape billowing behind him, but not before seeing Merlin's face consumed with horror.

Leon spends a good three quarters of an hour training with the knights, and if any of them notices that he seems in a more vicious and quiet mood than usual, they don't comment on it. Even while slashing at his sparring partner he sees the fear on Merlin's face, and he forces himself not to imagine that fear while Merlin is tied to a pyre. Leon feels a little guilty. There is no reason to, though—he comforts himself with the thought that by giving Merlin an hour before the confrontation, he's giving him the chance to flee, and by letting Merlin talk at all Leon is giving him a chance to explain himself. Leon hasn't told anyone—not the king, and not the prince. Merlin could easily gather his possessions and take a horse out of Camelot before the hour is up. He could already be gone.

If Merlin is still here, Leon will give him an ultimatum: he would either have to give up the practice of magic or leave. Unless, of course, he confesses some sort of evil plot, in which case Leon will escort him to the pyre himself. Grim as the thought is, he will not allow harm to come to Prince Arthur or King Uther.

The sudden thought that perhaps Merlin does have some sort of evil plot and is using this hour to move forward with it ahead of schedule makes Leon ill. He quits training right then, claiming to have forgotten an errand for the king, and strides to the prince's chambers, worse and worse scenarios coursing through his mind. Someone might question Merlin's approach of the king, but no one would think to stop Merlin on his way to see Arthur—no one would dare, not with Arthur's temper. Merlin's position as manservant is perfect to do a number of horrible, treasonous, murderous things, and _no one knows what he is._

Perhaps Leon should've taken a second to think before he wildly throws open the door to Arthur's chambers, but he's overwhelmed with urgent panic—he has to get to Arthur _right now._

Arthur lunges from his chair and grabs his sword, looking baffled when he sees who had burst into his chambers. " _Leon?_ "

After taking in the sight of his prince safe and sound (and alarmed) and noticing that Merlin is not at all nearby, Leon sags with relief. Then his ears catch up with the rest of him and he flushes. No doubt Arthur was taken aback by Leon barging in—Leon is a man of propriety, and he always knocks before entering Arthur's chambers, often even in times of urgency, and for Leon to charge in like this.....

It's unthinkable. No wonder the prince is looking at him like that.

"Ah, sire," he begins, trying to stall in order to have time to think of something. "I was just...."

"Yes?" Arthur encourages, raising an eyebrow when it appeared that there isn't anything demanding his attention right away.

Leon flounders.

The prince takes pity on him and jokes, "Got lost on the way to the armory?"

"Ah—yes, sire." He backs away towards the door, praying that the prince will just take his interruption as an odd source of amusement for the day and leave it at that. 

Arthur grunts and sits back down at his table, papers in front of him, waving Leon away as a dismissal. Miraculously, it seems he intended to do just what Leon hoped. "Remember to knock next time."

"Yes, sire."

"Oh, and if you see that clumsy manservant of mine, send him here, would you? I don't believe for a second that one basket of laundry takes an hour."

So Merlin fled, then. 

Leon gets a sinking feeling in his chest at the thought of how the prince will react to his manservant (and friend, despite all claims otherwise) disappearing without so much as a note or goodbye. "Yes, sire," he murmurs, trying to keep the heaviness out of his tone.

Guinevere and Gwaine are Merlin's friends, too. They'll be hurt. And Gaius....

Merlin's chambers are off Gaius's rooms—when he left, he probably stopped there to get his things. Perhaps he said goodbye to Gaius, made some excuse and took off. On foot or stolen horse, Leon doesn't know.

Ah, but no, Merlin couldn't have said goodbye to Gaius. Gaius is out of Camelot, treating ill villagers, and isn't expected to return until the evening.

Hot rage sweeps through Leon. How could Merlin do this? Leon isn't as close to Merlin as some of the knights are, and certainly not as close to him as the prince or Gaius, but even he feels the sting of betrayal. The pain will be so much worse for Arthur and the rest when they find out.

He notices in passing that his feet are taking him to the court physician's chambers, softly thudding on the stone stairs. 

Gaius has lost a boy like a son to him, some of the knights and Gwen have lost a friend, and Arthur has lost a close confidant, and for what? For the promise of power? The allure of evil? It was not so long ago that Morgana had done the same; betrayed Camelot and its people for sorcery.

Leon hesitates a moment before entering Gaius's chambers. No one will be in, but Gaius deserves to have someone there to tell him that Merlin is gone when he returns. No point in making him go on a search around the castle.

But Leon doesn't find an empty room when he opened the door.

Merlin is there.

He leaps to his feet when Leon opens the door. The laundry basket is next to him, overturned on the ground. It doesn't look like Merlin ever made it to the scullery. "Oh. Sir Leon."

"Merlin," Leon begins, and then he doesn't know what to say after that. He clears his throat. "I expected you to be long gone."

Merlin actually looks offended. "Me? Leave Arthur? If a bit of danger was going to scare me away, I'd have turned right around and gone home within half an hour of arriving in Camelot."

"The threat of execution isn't 'a little danger,' Merlin. You could be beheaded. Or worse, burned at the stake."

"I wake up to that possibility every morning, Leon." The affront in Merlin's face becomes exhaustion all of a sudden. "You're so concerned for my safety now that I have a way of defending myself, when before, when you thought I was powerless, you didn't say a word about Arthur bringing me on hunts and excursions without any sort of weapons training or armor. Just soft limbs and torso and everything out and exposed for anyone to stab."

Leon shifts on his feet uncomfortably. "You've made it this far."

"And why do you think that is?" Merlin's voice has the tone of patient teacher explaining something for the fifth time to a particularly blockheaded child, and it makes Leon's blood boil. He forgets his prepared speech offering time to flee or the option of giving up magic, instead letting the embers in his chest take over his tongue. 

"Magic is evil. How could you take up the practice, betraying all of Camelot? Betraying Gaius and Arthur?"

"I've been doing magic since before I could walk," Merlin replies, far too calm. "You forget I'm not a citizen of Camelot. But even if I had been, it wouldn't have mattered. I was born with it."

"You can't be born with magic!"

"Morgana was."

Leon snorts, trying to hide that Morgana's betrayal still stings him, even years after. "You're not helping yourself out with that comparison."

"She turned against us not because she had magic, but because we persecuted it. Camelot kills people with magic. With Morgause whispering in her ear, who else should we have expected her to become?" He looks tired again, and very, very old. Leon notices lines on Merlin's face that he hadn't seen before. He has the sudden realization that he doesn't actually know how old Merlin is. Younger than Arthur, surely. 

Leon shakes off the distraction. "We kill magic users because magic is evil."

"No, you kill magic users because magic is incomprehensible to you. It's different and you don't care to learn to understand it. Uther didn't understand it. He meddled with magic he didn't fully comprehend and threw a tantrum when he paid the price for it." Merlin clenches his jaw in order to stop from saying anything else. 

"Ygraine died, Merlin," Leon says softly. "Does that mean nothing?"

"And how many magic users died after that? Druids, Leon. Peaceful people. Did Uther care that he was burning children? That he doomed other children to live lives as bastards because he hunted their fathers to the ends of the earth?" Merlin's voice shakes with the effort of not shouting. Leon finds himself stepping back. "Uther destroyed crops, homes, and families. He forced people into exile or early graves. Magic isn't evil, Leon, no more than a hammer is evil. It can be used to forge or build just as easily as it can be used to smash someone's head in." He pulls his hand over his face to compose himself. "I know you've grown up thinking otherwise, but I need you to understand."

Leon doesn't want to understand. He draws himself up to his full height. "What are your intentions toward king and country?"

Merlin does quite the opposite, letting the tension leave his shoulders. "Arthur is going to be the greatest king the land has ever seen. I'm going to protect him until the day I die."

"And Uther?"

Merlin shrugs, looking a little helpless. "I know what it's like to lose a father. I'd never wish the same on Arthur. Not ever."

Leon sags, stepping back to fall into a chair. "I don't know what you expect me to do, Merlin. Magic is illegal."

"So is Judaism," Merlin says simply, and Leon's tense all over again, his head snapping up so his eyes can bore into Merlin's. 

"What did you just say?"

"Uther isn't an avid follower of Christianity, but he abhors the Druids and all other religions besides. Judaism falls under that 'everything else' umbrella. Surely you knew."

Leon rises, a hand on the pommel of his sword. "That sounds like a threat." He feels sweat beading on his forehead. His family has always, _always_ flown under the radar—how is this possible, how—his family—his _little sisters—_

"I'm not threatening you, Leon," Merlin sits down in a chair by the fire so Leon is the only one standing. "Even if you turn me in for magic, I won't tell. You have the right to practice whatever faith you choose. Just saying, it's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Magic and religion are not the same," Leon hisses through clenched teeth. 

"Not for you," Merlin says, "but for Druids, they're intertwined."

"Are you a Druid?"

"No. Not truly. But in the end, none of this matters." Merlin leans forward, eyes wide and plaintive and eager. Leon wants to hate him. "All that matters is that I will do anything— _anything—t_ o protect Arthur. Do you understand? _Anything_."

"You want him to make magic legal again in return for your protection."

"I once wanted that more than anything in the world. But that hasn't been my priority in many years. It isn't about magic anymore, not for me. He's my king, Leon." Merlin's face is soft. "You know what that's like."

When Arthur walks in a room and suddenly he's the only one in it. When he's out of your sight in battle and you can't breathe until he's in your line of view again. When you'd send an entire kingdom right into a dragon's mouth just to see him happy. When you'd throw aside every noble cause you've ever cherished just to stand by his side.

"Yes," Leon says, swallowing down the emotions that threaten to tear out of his throat. "I know what that's like." 

There's a pause. Leon looks into the fire and wants to forget things. "We are neither of us honest men," he says. 

Merlin shrugs, looking a bit helpless again. It shouldn't be an unsettling look on him, but it is—he's always so encouraging, so confident. "I don't know how to be anybody else." 

"No," Leon agrees, "I don't know, either."


End file.
